


Six Weeks

by bananannabeth



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternating POVs Mike Wheeler & Eleven, Eleven/Mike Wheeler-Centric, F/M, Set between the closing of the gate and the Snow Ball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananannabeth/pseuds/bananannabeth
Summary: There are six weeks between the night El comes home and the night of the Snow Ball, which leaves not a lot of time to deal with a whole lot of shit. Somehow, she and Mike ride it out.





	1. Week One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song [Six Weeks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18Gyci5tw74) by Of Monsters and Men. 
> 
> I know that at the end of Series 2 it says "One Month Later" between the closing of the Gate and Hopper's meeting with Dr. Owens, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that there was an extra two weeks between that meeting and the Snow Ball, so... hopefully that works for you, too. 
> 
> Sorry that the style is a bit fragmented, I hope that it's not too jarring to read. Feedback is much appreciated!!

 

_Slow, slow me down,_

_Her blood, on my bones._

_Let go, lay to rest._

_We fall, we fall, we fall,_

_We fall to the ground._

 

 

 

 

Headlights shine over the front window and Mike’s out the door before anyone else has even moved.

 

“Mike!” Nancy’s after him, hand outstretched, but there’s no way in hell anything’s going to get him to stop. “Slow down, Mike, wait -”

 

And some part of his brain, some distant, logical part right at the back, knows that she’s just worried because things are still dangerous and running out into the open unarmed isn’t a smart move, but the rest of his brain just has one word on loop, loud enough to drown out absolutely everything else: _El._

 

He sees her straight away, slumped in the passenger seat, and his heart stutters and drops, but his legs keep moving him forward anyway because he has to get her, he just has to -

 

She stirs, lifts her head and meets his eye through the passenger window.

 

The door opens so fast he thinks it’s about to come off it’s hinges and then she’s in his arms, small and cold and shaking but solid and alive, undeniably alive, and his heart is about to burst out of his chest and he’s never experienced a hurt quite so euphoric as this before.

 

“Eleven, El, _El_ ,” he says, over and over, and he wants to say more, but for perhaps the first time in his life, Mike is lost for words.

 

“Mike,” she says, lips moving against the crook of his neck, eyelashes fluttering against the pulse point underneath his jaw, hands shaking against his spine. “Mike, Mike.”

 

She falls out of the car and he’s not prepared to take all of her weight, so the two of them collapse backwards into the dirt and they’re both shaking so badly but neither care. He doesn’t let go of her, and she doesn’t let go of him, and he can’t believe that he went 353 days without her.

 

“All right, come on.” A large, steady hand lands on Mike’s shoulder, hauls him up to his feet and then, much more gently, lifts El to hers. Hopper looks down at the two of them, face unreadable, as El slumps into his side, never once taking her eyes off Mike. “Jesus Christ,” the Chief mutters, shaking his head at their still intertwined hands. “Get inside.”

 

El tries to take a step and stumbles, so Hopper lifts her up and carries her, just like Dustin had at the school last year, and Mike hurries alongside, still holding her hand. He has to let go so they can fit through the door, but everyone who’s gathered at the entrance wisely gets out of his way so he can kneel before El as Hopper carefully puts her on the couch.

 

All the lights are on inside the house, and for the first time he clearly sees just how much power she’s used. There’s dark red blood caked over her top lip and running in trails from both of her ears, and her skin is so pale, every vein visible just beneath the surface.

 

“Oh, shit, _shit_ ,” Dustin says, and then he spins away as though he can’t bear to look at her.

 

“Is it -?” Lucas starts to ask and then stops, voice breaking into a quiet sort of choking sound.

 

El doesn’t seem to hear them. She blinks up at Mike, eyelids purple beneath the thick black eyeliner, and runs her fingers down the side of his face, as if she’s reassuring herself that he’s really there.

 

“It’s closed,” Hopper says. “She closed it.”

 

“Yes!” Lucas yells, and out of the corner of his eye Mike sees him grab Max’s hand and spin her around in celebration. She spins into Dustin, who grabs her shoulders and _whoop_ s loudly, and the three of them laugh, relief pouring out of them, and Mike can’t help but smile.

 

El smiles back, small but sincere, and drops her hand from his face to lace her fingers through his.

 

“You saved us, El,” he says.

 

Her smile widens, and her cracked lips part as though she’s going to say something -

 

And then her eyes roll back into her skull and she falls limp, fingers going slack between Mike’s and head lolling to the side on the couch cushion.

 

Ice cold dread wraps around his heart. “El? El!”

 

“Let go.” Hopper’s there again, pushing him aside and leaning over El.

 

His whole world tilts on its axis. Mike stumbles back and skinny arms wrap around his shoulders instantly, holding him tight. He doesn’t need to look back to know that it’s Nancy. She runs a clammy hand over his forehead, pushes his hair out of his eyes and says, “She’s gonna be okay, Mike, she’s gonna be okay.”

 

He feels himself falling, spiralling into panic, because what if she’s not okay, what if closing the gate was too much, what if -

 

“Mike,” Dustin says, grabbing his arm and shaking, and he realises he’s been talking aloud. “Nancy’s right. She’ll be okay. She’s so strong, dude.”

 

He knows they mean well, but all he can think about is her face as she turned back to look at him that last time, her lips forming the words, _Goodbye, Mike,_ the shower of ash and monster dust that she’d disappeared in. He can’t do that again.

 

“I can’t lose her,” he chokes out, “Not again.”

 

“I know,” Nancy says, and she sounds like she might be crying, chin resting on his shoulder. “You’re not going to lose her.”

 

Hopper’s shoulders relax and he slumps back onto his heels. “She’s sleeping,” he says, voice low.

 

“You mean she just needs to recharge?” Lucas asks.

 

Hopper shrugs. “I would assume that she needs to rest.”

 

“Do you want to put her in my room?” Joyce asks.

 

Mike doesn’t care where she is, so long as he’s with her. He prepares himself to push out of Nancy’s hold and follow Hopper wherever he carries El, but to his surprise the Chief shakes his head.

 

“I want -” He pauses, clears his throat, won’t look at anyone except for Joyce. “I want to keep her where I can see her.”

 

A small fragment of the rage that Mike’s harbouring towards him falls away. Not a lot, but - a piece of it. Enough to maybe make him not want to punch him quite so hard.

 

Joyce nods quickly, understanding written all over her face, eyes going straight to Will, who’s curled up in an armchair and watching the whole scene with dark eyes.

 

Mike looks over to him, and the corners of Will’s lips lift into a smile. _I’m okay_.

 

Mike exhales. Nancy lets him go.

 

El’s chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm as she breathes, peacefully sleeping. He still can’t believe she’s actually there. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to go to her again, to make sure he’s the first thing she sees when she wakes up, but he stays rooted to the spot between Nancy and Dustin, suddenly scared that if he moves he’s going to shatter the illusion of peace that’s settled over the room.

 

“So… is it over?” Jonathan asks hesitantly.

 

Everyone turns to look at him, then at El, then at Hopper.

 

“Yeah.” The Chief runs a hand through his hair and nods once. “Yeah, it’s over.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey, Mike.” It’s Max, hovering in front of him, red hair falling in knots over her shoulders. “Mrs. Byers says that you should clean yourself up.”

 

He looks down at his hands, still clasped around one of El’s and stained red with her blood, dirt caked under the fingernails.

 

He looks back up at Max and shakes his head. “I’m not leaving her.”

 

She gives him a weird look, nose crinkled and one eyebrow raised. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” she mutters. Before he can snap at her, she says, “She said you’d probably say that, so here.”

 

Max tosses a wet flannel at him and Mike barely catches it with one hand before it lands flat on his face. “What -”

 

“You look gross, dude,” Lucas offers, sauntering up behind Max. “Just. Wipe off some of the blood, at least.”

 

Disgruntled, Mike swipes the cloth over his face, trying to remember which parts got the most exposure down in the tunnels. He reluctantly lets go of El to scrub at his hands, wiping away the red stains caked into the cracks of his fingerprints and picking at the dirt underneath his nails. He won’t admit it, because Max is already looking far too smug, but there’s something satisfying about seeing clean skin reappear beneath all the muck.

 

“Happy?” he grumbles, flipping her the bird as an excuse to show off how clean his fingers are.

 

She pulls a face and flips him off, too, but before it can escalate Dustin chimes in, “You look better than Steve.”

 

Mike leans forward to try and see down the hall to the bathroom, where Nancy and Hopper are tending to Steve’s - more serious than they’d anticipated - injuries. He can’t see anything, but he can hear a lot of swearing, from all parties involved.

 

Dustin walks closer and winces. “You look better than El, too.”

 

Mike turns quickly to look at her, but she’s still just sleeping, face slack. She’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but yeah, she’s also still covered in blood.

 

He holds the flannel up. “You got another one of these?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Mike wakes up to something light and soft touching his cheek. It’s a gentle pressure, nothing familiar, and it’s gone before he can even comprehend what it is.

 

He blinks, and his dream is still hanging around, because the first thing he sees are El’s beautiful brown eyes staring back at him. He closes his eyes again, wanting to relish the feeling of having her here, even if it’s just a dream, before he has to get up and face another day -

 

That light pressure is back again, a little closer to his mouth this time, and he recognises it now. A kiss. Someone’s kissing his cheek.

 

His eyes open all at once, and El’s still there in front of him, so close that their noses are almost touching.

 

“El,” he breathes, reaching out and cupping her face in his palm.

 

There’s still a bit of blood in the shell of her ear, a small piece that he missed last night as he cleaned her up, but she looks so much better now. There’s some color back in her face and she feels so much warmer. She’s stopped shaking, too.

 

“Mike,” she says around a smile.

 

They’re on the couch in the Byers living room, legs tangled beneath a knitted blanket, El pressed up against the back of the couch while Mike half-hangs off the edge. He remembers clambering up here in the early hours of the morning, long after everyone else was asleep, when El had squeezed his hand and murmured his name. He wriggles a little closer to her now, looping an arm around her waist for leverage, and she laughs quietly at the face he pulls as he tries to get into a more secure position without squashing her.

 

He huffs, causing the few loose curls over her forehead to fly up, and she buries her face in the crook of his neck and breathes him in.

 

For a few moments, Mike is absolutely content.

 

And then someone behind him lets out an earth shattering snore, and he almost falls off the couch in shock.

 

El catches him, fingers curling over his shoulder to hold him steady, and he mumbles a thanks before sitting up and surveying the scene in the lounge.

 

Mattresses have been dragged in from every bedroom, and everyone’s camped out on top of them in a tangle of mismatched blankets. Well, except for Hopper, who’s in the armchair, head lolled back and drooling slightly. Mrs Byers is right by his feet, Will curled up next to her, looking more peaceful than Mike’s seen him all year. Jonathan’s on his other side, and Nancy has her back pressed up against him while she uses the still bruised and bloody Steve as a pillow. Dustin’s beside Steve, curls mashed down against the mattress, and he’s the one who’s snoring. Mike’s surprised that Lucas, who’s closest to him, hasn’t woken up yet from the sound. But he’s holding hands with Max, and Mike thinks that even if he did wake up, Lucas probably wouldn’t want to move anytime soon.

 

El taps him on the shoulder, and he cranes his head back to look at her. “You okay?”

 

She nods. When she speaks her voice is quiet, serious and sweet all at once. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he says, smiling so wide it hurts.

 

He carefully lies flat on his back on the couch, and El rests on top of him, her weight a comforting reminder that she’s really there. She wriggles down so she can lay her head on his chest, and Mike wraps his arms around her back and holds her. He can feel her heart beating steadily, and he drums his fingers to the same rhythm until he feels her breathing even out as she falls back asleep.

 

Dustin’s still snoring, and Hopper is probably going to kill him when he wakes up, but Mike doesn’t even care.

 

He kisses the crown of El’s head, lays his head back, and lets himself fall into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in 353 nights.

 

 

 

 


	2. Week Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a bit getting inside El's head, so I hope I did her some semblance of justice. Thanks for all of the kudos and comments on the last chapter, I really, really appreciate it!!

 

 

 

 

_Sleep, sleep all night,_

_While the young, they wait alone._

_So get up, shake the rust._

_We crawl, we crawl, we crawl,_

_We crawl on the ground._

 

 

 

 

Saying goodbye again was hard.

 

“It’s not a goodbye forever though,” Dustin had said, eyes glistening as he hugged her.

 

“Yeah, we’re gonna see you real soon,” Lucas had agreed, nodding quickly and squeezing her shoulder.

 

El had tried to smile, because she loved her friends and seeing them made her feel all sorts of happy, but, in a way, that just made leaving them again even worse. Mike had been standing behind them, scowling, and she knew that he was hurting then just like she was.

 

It still hurts now, ten days later, as she glares at Hopper across their small table, microwave dinners abandoned between them.

 

“I’m trying, kid,” he says, and he sounds tired.

 

El is tired, too. Tired of waiting, tired of hiding, tired of secrets, tired of being trapped.

 

“When?” she demands again, hands flat on the table. Her chest feels tight, all of her aching with how badly she wants to see Mike again.

 

“As soon as I know, I will tell you,” Hopper growls. “He’s grounded, too, El, this isn’t all on me -”

 

“You can talk to his parents,” she says, and she doesn’t think she’s being unreasonable. Mike had made his mother sound so nice, surely she would understand if Hopper just explained _why_ Mike had stayed at the Byers’ for so long without telling her. “Explain.”

 

“No,” he says in the strict tone that lets her know _he_ thinks she’s being unreasonable and he wants her to stop pushing. “It’s still too dangerous, and the less people know the better -”

 

“I need to see him!” she roars, shooting to her feet. The table shakes violently, some peas rolling off her plate and onto the floor.

 

Hopper looks unimpressed. He glares at her until she slowly, rigidly, sinks back into her seat.

 

“I know you miss him,” he says, very slowly and very stiffly. He’s trying, El knows, but she needs him to try harder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to stay here. As soon as Doc Owens is out of the hospital I’m going to meet him, and we’re going to figure out a way for you to join your friends, okay? But for now, it’s not safe. And you being safe is the number one priority. Got it?”

 

He’s waiting for her to nod, but she doesn’t give him what he wants. She just tucks her chin into her chest and glowers at the peas on the ground. Her feelings are too big for her body, constantly spilling over in ways she can’t control, and she doesn’t know what to do with them.

 

“I miss him so much,” she says, and starts to cry.

 

Hopper sighs and pushes his chair back, coming round to kneel in front of her. When she stubbornly avoids his gaze he tucks a finger under her chin and gently tilts her face up. Everything about him now is much softer and quieter. “Look, El… I’ll figure out a way for you to talk to him, okay? We’re going to do things better, this time. You’re gonna have your friends, it’s not just gonna be the two of us anymore. But I can’t… We’ve gotta be smart about it, okay? Just… give me a few more days, and I’ll figure something out.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hopper falls asleep on the couch, and El sits in the middle of her bed with the blindfold over her eyes, focusing on how she felt when Mike held her in his arms at the Byers’ house ten days ago. Just thinking about it now makes her feel warm all over, a fuzzy happiness swelling up in her chest and sparking down her limbs.

 

She finds him easily, his patterned sweater a bright spot in the darkness of the void, but he’s not where she expects him to be. Usually, at this time of night, when her watch reads one-one:zero-zero, he’s camped out in her fort in the basement, walkie talkie in hand, ready to tell her all about his day and how much he misses her.

 

Tonight, though, he’s standing in the doorway to what might be Nancy’s room, jaw set stubbornly and dark eyes narrowed. He’s annoyed. “I’ll tell Mom about your sleepover with Jonathan,” he says.

 

A muffled cry comes from in front of him, and Nancy slowly comes into focus. She looks just like Mike, same stubborn expression, same annoyed huff. “Mike, come on, don’t -”

 

“Just give me the directions,” he pleads. “ _Please_. I need to see her.”

 

El’s breath catches in her throat as she realises what he’s asking. She hovers behind his shoulder, watching a barrage of emotions flicker across Nancy’s pretty face.

 

“I don’t -”

 

“You do know!” Mike yells, and the two of them instantly glance to the side, waiting to see if his volume has woken anyone.

 

“Keep your voice down!” Nancy hisses. “And I don’t, really, Jonathon’s the one who drove, I was too scared to really pay attention…”

 

Mike swears and folds his arms over his chest, glaring down at his feet. El studies the furrow of his brow, the downturned corners of his lips. She wants so badly to touch him.

 

Nancy sighs, reaches a hand out to him and then pulls it back, unknowingly mirroring El. “If I knew, I would have told you already.”

 

He looks up at that. Something important passes in their locked gaze, and El looks between the two of them wondrously.

 

“Nancy -” Mike begins, and he sounds broken.

 

“I’ll ask him tomorrow,” she says, and El can hear the _promise_.

 

Mike lights up, spine straightening so that he’s taller than Nancy. He babbles his thanks, words spilling out almost faster than El can catch, but she’s so focused on his shining eyes and his smile that the words themselves don’t matter so much at the moment.

 

Nancy laughs. “Okay, okay, you’re welcome. Now go to bed, get some sleep.”

 

She pulls him in for a quick hug and then she shuts her door, and it’s just Mike and El, alone in the black.

 

He exhales, turns around, and looks right at her.

 

El’s hand rises, moving towards him like they’re magnetised. “Mike.”

 

He’s frozen, staring straight ahead as though he can see her, even though she knows he can’t. “El?” he breathes. And then, animated, “El! Oh, shit.”

 

He runs past her, and she follows him through the void, past flickers of spaces and objects she remembers from his house, down into the basement. He crawls into the fort and scrounges around for his walkie talkie, which is buried at the back under some pillows, so his mom can’t take it away.

 

“El!” he calls, mouth right by the receiver. “El, I’m sorry I’m late, I hope you weren't waiting too long or anything. I was talking to Nancy… she’s going to ask Jonathan for the directions to the cabin. I’m going to come and see you, I don’t care what Hopper says, he’s not going to keep us apart anymore.”

 

El swallows thickly. She drops to her knees, crawls over to him and settles in front of him. “I know,” she says, letting herself pretend for a moment that he can hear her.

 

“I miss you,” he says, tapping his free hand against his knee. He’s nervous. "I'm sick of waiting for the adults to do something. I want to see you again."

 

“I miss you, too,” she says, and the way that his expression tightens makes her think maybe he can hear her, after all.

 

“El -” he starts, and she leans forward, hanging off his every breath.

 

But something distracts him. Muffled yelling, from the top of the basement stairs, El assumes, makes Mike scowl. “Coming, Mom!” he yells out, obviously angry.

 

But then he’s speaking into the walkie talkie again, soft and quiet and just for El. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? I promise. Night, El.”

 

He pushes the antenna down, and the fort fades as El rips the blindfold off her eyes. Her room is dark, lit only by the pale moonlight filtering in around the edges of her curtains, but she still has to blink a few times to refocus. It’s always jarring, coming back to her physical self.

 

She feels a little dizzy, and she can taste blood on her lips. She’s not supposed to use her powers, especially not for as long as she just did, because she’s still recovering from closing the Gate.

 

It’s the only way she can see Mike, though, so she just does it when Hopper’s asleep or at work, when he can’t tell her off.

 

Mike's words echo in her head. He's coming. He's coming to her. She just has to wait, a little bit longer.

 

Breathing heavily, she swipes her arm under her nose. It comes away streaked with red, and she knows that she has to get cleaned up before Hopper catches her like this.

 

She doesn’t want to get in trouble, but she also doesn’t want to disappoint him. His sad eyes are so much worse than his yelling, and she knows that he gets sad when he sees her hurt or drained.

 

She’s still annoyed with him, but she does love him, and she almost understands why he wants her to stay in the cabin even after the Gate is closed and even after she’s explained about Kali and even after she’s begged and begged and begged to go see her friends and Mike.

 

They’ve spoken more about Sara, since that car ride out to the Lab. El’s learnt all about Hopper’s daughter, and the illness called cancer that took her away from him, and the other sickness called grief that took his ex-wife away from him and brought him back to Hawkins. El knows all about grief. So she almost understands why it’s so hard for Hopper to do anything that might lead to El being taken away from him, too. She knows it’s because he loves her, too.

 

That doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

 

She swings her legs over the side of the bed and tries to stand, but she isn't strong enough yet to carry her own weight and she crumples to the cold floor.

 

“Damn it,” she mutters, trying out one of the phrases she’s learnt from Hopper, and it makes her feel a little better. So she says it again, crawling over towards the bedroom door. “Damn it!”

 

She takes a second, waits for her legs to feel like they’re attached to her body, and tries again. It’s shaky and slow, but eventually she’s able to use the doorknob to haul herself to her feet and move carefully into the lounge.

 

Hopper’s still asleep on the couch, dressed in sweatpants and a brown t-shirt, so he almost blends in with the cushions. He looks relaxed and peaceful, and she keeps one eye on him as she walks to the bathroom, steps feather light.

 

She’s good at sneaking, Hopper says. She's 'scared the hell out of him' quite a few times by sneaking up on him when he's not expecting it.

 

She shuts the bathroom door carefully behind herself, making sure that the hinges don’t creak, and once it’s totally shut she listens out for any noises from Hopper. When he doesn’t stir, she flicks the light on.

 

Her reflection is pale, but not so bad. No blood from her ears, no popping veins. She cups her hands under the tap and splashes cold water over her face, wiping at the bloodstains with her hands and washing as much of it as possible down the sink. She doesn’t want to leave too much of a stain on the towels.

 

She accidentally splashes the curls that frame her face and they lengthen, sticking to her skin in a way that tickles. She pats them down with the towel, too, after drying off her face, and marvels at the way they go a bit frizzy. She likes having hair. It’s not very long, yet, but it’s soft and silky, and she likes how it feels when it swishes against the back of her neck as she moves her head.

 

She runs a hand through it, remembering the tender expression Mike had worn when he’d done the same. “It’s long,” he’d said, a little awed.

 

El had laughed. “Not very.”

 

“It’s longer,” he’d corrected, twirling a strand around one of his fingers. “Pretty. Very pretty.”

 

She’d felt a warmth spread through her then, all the way from her head to her toes, and she’d smiled exactly like she had the first time he’d called her pretty. She hopes that he never stops thinking she’s pretty.

 

Cleaned up and feeling much more solid, El turns the light off and cautiously exits the bathroom. Hopper has rolled onto his side but is otherwise exactly as she left him. Relief washes over her and she realises for the first time how on edge she’s been since their argument over dinner.

 

He must have tidied up, because the plates aren’t on the table anymore and the peas aren’t on the floor. El makes a mental note that she should do the dishes tomorrow, to make up for it.

 

They’ve got a lot of making up to do, the both of them, but she thinks they’ll get there.

 

Just as carefully as before, she sneaks past him and retreats back into her room.

 

The night is quiet and dark, and El’s still a little lightheaded. If she lies in the middle of her bed, on her back with her arms and legs straight, she feels almost like she’s floating. She can feel all of the empty space around her, can feel how alone she is, and she wonders if Mike is lying awake in his bed and wishing she were there, too.

 

She stays awake until the sun pours through the curtains in earnest, until Hopper raps on her door and tells her it’s time for breakfast, until she can shake off the night and remind herself that not all hours crawl by as slowly as these.

 

 

 

 


	3. Week Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos, bookmarked or subscribed, and a special thank you to everyone who's commented!! Your support means the world, and your feedback is what keeps me writing. 
> 
> If you'd like to chat off Ao3 you can find me over on tumblr as [bananannabeth](https://bananannabeth.tumblr.com) (✿◠‿◠)

 

 

 

 

_ Alone, I fight these animals. _

_ Alone, until I get home. _

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Mike feels like a stranger in his own family. 

 

He has so little in common with his dad it’s worrying, his mom is so busy with Holly and… whatever she does to fill her days, he doesn’t even know anymore, because ever since the worst night of his life, when he cried into her arms at the school and couldn’t tell her why, things have been weird between them.

 

Even Nancy, who knows everything, isn’t on the same page as him a lot of the time. She’s been busy grieving Barb while he’s been grieving El, both of them fighting their demons alone rather than showing each other their vulnerabilities.  _ No more secrets _ had been a great idea, but hard to put into practice when they couldn't even openly talk about the people they've lost.

 

So he’s been alone, pretty much, for the last year. Parents who either didn’t care or didn’t know how to deal with him lashing out, one sister who was too far gone in her own grief to handle his, another who was too young to help, friends who couldn’t fathom the depths of his despair. 

 

Things should be different now that El’s back, but she’s still hiding with Hopper, and Mike’s still grounded, and they’re both still alone.

 

This is what Mike is thinking about as he sits opposite his parents at the dining table, both of them staring at him as though they just don’t know what to do anymore. 

 

His dad is watching him through the thick lenses of his glasses, paying maybe the most attention to his only son he has in years. His mom sits stiffly, perched on the very edge of her dining chair, and lays both her hands flat on the table, perhaps trying to make this feel less like an interrogation.

 

She’s not doing a very good job.

 

“Mike,” she says, and he has to hold back a wince at her clipped tone.

 

“Mom,” he says in the same manner.

 

Behind her, peeking out from around the corner, Nancy frantically makes a slashing motion across her throat.  _ Cut it out, idiot! _

 

Mike clears his throat and tries again. “Mom, I understand why you grounded me. But it’s been almost three whole weeks -”

 

“You’re lucky it wasn’t three months, son,” his dad drawls, nodding sagely.

 

It takes every ounce of self control he has to not roll his eyes. He bites his tongue, glances at Nancy, flits his gaze across his dad, and focuses on his mom. She’s chewing her bottom lip, obviously unhappy, but stops as soon as she notices Mike watching. 

 

“We are trying to be reasonable,” she says, and then sighs. It’s like all of the air leaves her at once; her shoulders slump forward and she grabs Mike’s hand on top of the table.

 

“I know,” he says, sincere, because he can see the bags underneath his mom’s eyes and the strands of her hair frizzing out of their always perfect curls and he knows that she’s worried about him, has been worried about him for a long time.

 

She closes her eyes, squeezes his hand, and takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, he knows she’s made her decision. “If we get so much as one more note from your teachers, Mike, you’ll be grounded for the rest of the year.”

 

He speaks so quickly the words trip over each other. “You won’t, Mom, I swear, I’m gonna stay outta trouble from now on, I promise -”

 

It’s not a proper smile, just a small quirk of her lips that’s gone almost as soon as it appears, but Mike knows that it’s enough. “Final warning, Michael,” she says sternly.

 

He nods, almost frantic, and pulls his hand back. “I know, I know, I swear, I’m not going to do anything else, I’m on my best behavior from now on.”

 

“Should’ve been on your best behavior from the start,” Ted says, but it’s so dispassionate that he might as well have stayed silent.

 

Nancy rolls her eyes so Mike doesn’t have to.

 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Mike says, pushing the words out before he can stop to analyse what he’s fake-apologizing for. Because now he can ask the good stuff. “Does this mean I can have the party over tomorrow night?”

 

“A party?” his dad asks, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He looks ready to start a lecture, probably involving some metaphor about his high school football team, but he’s cut off before he gets the chance.

 

His mom sighs again. “Who’s in the party again?”

 

Jesus, it’s like everything he says is white noise. His excitement evaporates. “Mom.” Nancy’s back at her frantic  _ stop  _ pantomime, so he drops the attitude. “The guys, and Max.”

 

“Maxine?” 

 

“Yeah,” Mike says, picking his battles.

 

His mom hums thoughtfully. “They have to be gone by eight thirty.”

 

“But Mom -” He hasn’t seen them outside of school for two and a half weeks and she thinks that a few hours is long enough to catch up on everything?

 

Her lips are pursed. “Eight. Thirty.”

 

He’s not winning this one. “Okay. They’ll be gone by eight thirty,” he says, resigned.

 

His mom smiles. She pushes her chair back and that’s the end of it; she disappears into the kitchen, Nancy runs back to her room before she can get caught spying, and his dad resumes his usual position in the Lay-Z-Boy, leaving Mike sitting alone at their dining table.

 

He remembers when he’d told El that she could come live with them. Sitting across from her in the empty cafeteria, stumbling over his words and trying to figure out how to explain something to her that he didn’t even understand himself. He’d promised her proper food and a real bed, a mother and a sister and a home. 

 

He has all of those things, still, but they don’t feel much like home anymore.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

At 11pm exactly Mike sits in the fort in the basement and talks to El over the walkie talkie. It’s sort of stupid, because she can’t talk back, but it’s also not stupid at all, because she’s been listening to him the whole time. All 353 days that he called out to her and told her how badly he hoped she was okay, how much he missed her, how desperately he wanted just to see her one more time, she was listening.

 

He knows that she’s still listening, now.

 

Sometimes the white noise from the channel shifts and crackles in a way it never does any other time, and he knows that’s her. He’s still not sure how, exactly, it works, her travel through the void, on the side of the tightrope, but he knows enough to know that she can hear him, and that’s all that matters. 

 

“I’m not grounded anymore,” he says, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his jeans. “Mom said it’s my final warning, because I’ve been getting in a heap of trouble this year, but it’s fine because school’s almost out for Christmas break anyway, and I’ve already gotten in trouble with all of the teachers I hate so there’s not really much left for me to do, you know?”

 

Mike pauses, contemplates whether or not to tell her the next part. Decides that she has a right to know. “So anyway, I’m not grounded anymore which means I can have everyone over again. We haven’t played D&D in ages, and Max still has no idea how to play, so we might start a new campaign. When you come we’ll teach you, too. You’re our mage, remember?”

 

He’s spoken to her about this before, back when the count of days without her was still in double digits, but he’s pretty sure she remembers. She’s good at remembering things like this. He runs through the abilities of a mage again anyway, just in case, and also because imagining her sitting with the whole group and joining in with their games makes him happy in a way he doesn’t have words for. His heart clenches at the thought of it.

 

“It’ll be awesome when we’re all together again.” He’s meant to be excited, but the words come out low and sad. 

 

He can’t believe that the universe was cruel enough to send her to him only to take her away,  _ twice _ . 

 

The SuperCom buzzes unnaturally. Mike blinks down at it and then up at the space in front of him. There’s nothing there, but he swears he can almost feel something, the way you can sense a storm in the air before the first rumble of thunder even happens. It’s like an electric charge, something intangible hovering around him.

 

“El?”

 

There’s no answer, of course. 

 

He swallows thickly. “The, uh, the Snow Ball’s coming up soon. You know, the school dance? That I asked you to go to, last year?”

 

The memory is bittersweet, an impossible mix of euphoric joy and heartbreaking sorrow; his lips on hers, her small, bewildered smile after their kiss, and the look on her face as he held her hands between his, blood leaking over her pale skin, eyes dark and sad like she already knew exactly what was going to happen.

 

There’s another buzz from the walkie talkie, an upwards shift in pitch that snaps him out of his thoughts. He takes it as a  _ yes _ .

 

He gathers his courage. “Well, I was thinking, now that you’re back, maybe we could actually go together, if you wanted? It’ll probably be totally lame, school dances always are - not that I’ve been to any, but I hear that they’re lame. But it wouldn’t be lame with you there! We’d have fun! Dancing, and stuff. Together. I mean, the guys’d be there too, but you and me, we’d be, like,  _ together _ .”

 

God, this is almost as awkward as last time.

 

“It’s just… I promised, and you can’t break promises, and I’d really like to go with you.” 

 

He waits for her reply, for a quiet acknowledgement of some sort, just the smallest sign that she’s there and listening and he’s not spilling his guts to empty space.

 

The SuperCom crackles. He holds his breath, waiting, fighting every urge he has to pick it up and yell for her. The signal cracks again, and then there’s nothing.

 

He sighs, suddenly exhausted. “Let me know, okay? I hope you’re all right, El. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

He clicks the antenna down immediately, but it’s a long time before he crawls out of the fort.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Getting up for school in the morning is torture. He sleeps in so late he doesn’t have time for a proper breakfast and has to grab an Eggo fresh out of the toaster and put it straight in his mouth as he struggles to get his bag on his back. His stomach churns.

 

Lucas and Dustin are waiting for him out the front. 

 

Lucas keeps impatiently glancing from his watch to the garage, and when Mike finally rides out to meet them, he frowns. “Hurry up, man, we’re gonna be late.”

 

“We’re not gonna be late,” Mike says, but he quickly eats the rest of the waffle and pedals harder than usual anyway.

 

“Don’t mind him,” Dustin says good naturedly, weaving between them. “He just wants as much time with Max as possible before class.”

 

“Shut up!” Lucas swats at him, bike swerving dangerously close to the gutter as he does so. “You’re just jealous.”

 

“Pssh, no I’m not,” Dustin says, almost convincing. “I'm not going to settle down like you dorks, I'm gonna make the most of my youth and play the field, remember?”

 

“You shouldn't take advice from Steve Harrington!” Lucas exclaims. 

 

Mike leans into a corner. "You're getting dating advice from Steve, now?"

 

Dustin grins and does that weird purring noise. Both Mike and Lucas shake their heads.  


 

"He obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. Isn't Nancy dating Jonathan now?” Lucas asks.

 

“Ew, I don't wanna talk about my sister's love life.” Mike curls his lip up. “I don’t know. It’s weird. She stayed over at the Byers’ twice last week, but the other night I heard her on the phone to Steve.” He hesitates, lowers his voice a little. “It sounded like she was crying.”

 

They turn to Dustin, who shrugs. “He said they had some stuff to talk about. I dunno, he wouldn’t go into details.”

 

“Thank god,” Mike says.

 

He makes a mental note to ask Nancy if she's okay, the next time he sees her.

 

Max is waiting for them out the front of her house, skateboard propped underneath her right foot and ready to go. “‘Sup, nerds,” she says, dropping the front wheels.

 

“Zoomer,” Dustin says with a lazy grin.

 

“Hey, Max,” Lucas says, so much warmer than he ever greets anyone else.

 

Mike shares a quick look of commiseration with Dustin, because,  _ ew _ . They slow down just enough for Max to grab the back of Lucas’s bike and get herself balanced before racing the rest of the way to school.

 

It’s almost been a whole year, and Mike’s bike still feels too light without El on the back. 

 

They pass Jonathan’s car on the way in, waving at him as he raises two fingers in acknowledgement. Will’s waiting for them by the bike racks.

 

Mike rides right up to the rack and waits for everyone to lock their bikes in before sharing his good news. “I’m not grounded anymore.”

 

There’s a chorus of  _ finally  _ and  _ about time  _ and  _ took them long enough _ .

 

“So do you guys wanna come over tonight? I thought we could start a new campaign, maybe give Max a, you know… formal induction into the party?”

 

Everyone freezes. Mike feels his cheeks going red as they all look between him and Max, who’s watching him with a guarded expression.

 

“What?” he snaps, crossing his arms. 

 

“You mean I’d be, like, a proper member of the party?” Max asks, and her voice is smaller than he’s ever heard it before. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him once. 

 

He doesn’t like the way they’re all looking at him. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, but -”

 

“You don’t have to, I know you probably think it’s super nerdy and not cool enough for you but I just thought -”

 

“No!” Max yells, and the way her face blushes bright red makes him think she’s startled even herself with the force of it. “No, I want to. I want to join in your dumb games and be a proper member of the party. Even if it is super lame.”

 

Mike narrows his eyes at her, fighting back the urge to call her out. “...Okay?”

 

She rolls her eyes and huffs, fingers clenching around the edge of her skateboard. She mutters, “God, I can’t believe you’re actually gonna make me say it.”

 

“Say what?” Lucas asks.

 

She sighs, throwing one arm out to the side while the other hugs her board. “It actually sounds sorta cool, okay? Happy?”

 

Mike can’t help but grin. She looks so flustered and annoyed, it’s made his own embarrassment worth it. 

 

But then she speaks again, and his smiles collapses. “Does El know how to play, too?”

 

Dustin and Lucas share a panicked look, while Will’s eyes go straight to Mike. He can’t look at any of them. He thinks about last night, telling her all about her role in the campaigns he has planned for when she’s allowed to see them all again, and something heavy settles on his lungs.

 

Max knows straight away that she’s said the wrong thing. “Sorry, I just -”

 

“She’s our mage,” Mike says, cutting her off. He keeps his head down, but his voice is steady as he says, “She hasn’t played, yet, but she will, soon. We can teach you both.”

 

There’s a collective sigh of relief. When he looks up, his friends are all giving him tentative smiles. He can’t quite smile back, but he appreciates it anyway.

 

“That’s a good plan,” Will says.

 

Max still looks worried, even though she’s trying to affect her usual tough demeanor. When the bell rings and the others hurry for the front doors of the school she hangs back to walk beside Mike. 

 

“Thanks,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “For letting me join the party.”

 

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but she’s staring straight ahead, watching Lucas as he argues with Dustin over something dumb. "Lucas sorta made that decision."

 

She crinkles her nose a little. "Come on, Mike, everyone knows you're the leader."

 

He looks right at her. There's no trace of sarcasm, and he wonders why Max is willing to keep trying with him when he's always been so rude. “Sorry I was such a dick to you.”

 

That gets her to look at him. She laughs. “You were  _ such  _ a dick.”

 

“I know,” he snaps, “that’s why I’m trying to apologize -”

 

“Apology accepted. I don’t really get what’s going on with you and El, but…” She shrugs. “You missed her, and you didn't want me taking her place in the party. I can understand that.”

 

It hits him then, for maybe the first time, that Max doesn’t have anyone but them in Hawkins. She’s left her dad and every friend she’s ever had back in California, and she's been stuck with a shit step dad and a lowlife step brother instead, poor replacements for a family.

 

She can’t know exactly how it felt, losing El like he did, but maybe she understands more than he’s given her credit for.

 

“Thanks,” he says.

 

Max knocks his shoulder with hers. “You too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Mike hates having his photo taken. This is an undeniable fact. His mom has albums full of polaroids of him scowling at the camera, looking for all the world like he wishes he was anywhere but in front of the lens. He doesn’t think there’s ever been a single nice photo taken of him - until now.

 

He can’t stop staring down at the print in his hands. He’s holding it like it’s made of glass.

 

In it he’s lying on the Byers’ couch, eyes closed and face relaxed, a small smile on his lips. Lying on his chest is El, head tucked beneath his chin, facing the camera. She’s still wearing the dark make up she’d arrived in, and it’s sort of smudged underneath her eyes, but she’s wearing a small smile, too, and a few strands of her hair are curling over her forehead in a way that makes Mike’s heart race. Her cheek is resting right above his heart, her hand beside his shoulder, and she looks content in a way he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her in her waking hours.

 

“That’s disgusting,” Max says, peering over his shoulder.

 

Mike goes to punch her in the arm but Lucas pulls her out of the way at the last second, so he swipes at the air instead. 

 

They’re all standing in his basement, table set up for a campaign and empty chip packets strewn over the couch. Mike, Lucas, Max and Dustin had come straight from school, but Will had gone home with Jonathan, saying that he had an appointment he couldn’t miss. And then he’d showed up forty minutes later and pulled this photo from his bag with all the reverence it deserved.

 

“It’s… cute,” Lucas says, totally unconvincing. Mike can practically see him holding in the urge to make exaggerated kissing noises. If he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Max, he probably would have given in already.

 

“Adorable,” Dustin agrees, leaning over the top of the photo to get a better look. “I mean, Max is right, it _is_ disgusting, but it's disgusting in an adorable way.”

 

Mike’s fist hits its target this time. Dustin reels back, rubbing his arm and grumbling.

 

“That’s why I couldn’t come straight after school, I had to go home and get it. I thought you’d want it as soon as possible,” Will says, voice quiet and unsure. His eyes flicker from Mike’s face to the photo and back again. “I remember you saying… you were sad that you didn’t even have a picture of her, last time, and I know that she’s back now so it sort of defeats the purpose, but I thought it’d be nice, anyway.”

 

“Will,” Mike says, and he’s alarmed to find that he’s getting a little choked up. He blinks rapidly and pulls Will into a hug. “Thanks, man. It’s awesome, really. When did you even -?”

 

“Just before Hopper woke up,” he explains, failing to stifle a laugh. 

 

Mike grimaces. Yeah, that’s something he’d rather forget. 

 

Dustin, Lucas and Max break into peals of laughter. 

 

“God, the look on your face,” Dustin cackles.

 

“The look on  _ Hopper’s  _ face,” Max adds, wiping her eyes.

 

“I hate you,” Mike says, glaring at all of them.

 

They ignore him and keep laughing.

 

“Sorry it took so long, I had to wait for Jonathan to develop the film,” Will continues, more seriously. “And then he wouldn’t let me give it to you at school, because it was too risky with so many people around, so I had to wait for you to not be grounded anymore.” 

 

Lucas snorts. “Like anyone at school ever pays any attention to us.”

 

“Speak for yourself, Stalker,” Max says, indignant.

 

“Thanks, Will,” Mike says again, because he’s really not sure how to explain to him just how much this means.

 

Will’s smile is sharp at the edges, and Mike knows instantly that he’s been saving the best bit for last. “You better thank Nancy, too. She did most of the convincing.”

 

Hope bubbles in Mike’s chest but he tries to tamp it down, not willing to give in just yet; The hurt from those 353 days is still too raw. He feels his lips quirking up in the beginnings of a smile anyway, as tends to happen at the mere thought of El. His voice is low and conspiratorial when he asks, “You mean you got them?”

 

Will nods, grinning. “Turn it over.”

 

Mike flips the print over and sure enough, there on the back are directions, scribbled in pencil, vague and faint, but still readable. Directions to El. 

 

He reads them, once, twice, three times, and gapes at Will. “I can’t believe you actually got the directions! This is amazing!”

 

He’s actually going to get to see her again, after twenty-one long days with nothing but one-sided conversations over the SuperCom to tide him over. He feels a shadow of the emotion he’d felt when she walked through the Byers’ door, a wondrous breath between disbelief and the sweetest relief he’s ever known.

 

“You can’t let anyone else see, or Jonathan’ll kill me,” Will says quickly, glancing furtively up the stairs, where light filters down from the hall.

 

Max snorts. "Like he's going to let that photo out of his sight. He'll probably sleep with it under his pillow."

 

He flips her the bird, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

 

“How are you meant to get there without Hopper knowing?” Lucas asks.

 

Mike shrugs. He’ll deal with Hopper if he has to. The man owes him this. 

 

“Maybe you can go when he’s at work?” Dustin says helpfully. 

 

Max rolls her eyes. “As if that’s even an issue. Lover boy’d be on his way there right now if we weren’t here to stop him.”

 

“Would not. And don’t call me that,” Mike snaps, but even he can tell his heart’s not in it. 

 

He’s too distracted by the thought of seeing El again, imagining what he’s going to say to her when he gets to the cabin, imagining how it’s going to feel to hold her again, to get to hear her voice, to talk to her and find out everything he missed in the time they were apart - 

 

“You’re kidding, right?” Dustin asks, adjusting the brim of his hat. “Your mom’ll kill you if she finds out you snuck out again.”

 

“I’m not going to sneak out!” Mike throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “God.”

 

The others share a knowing look. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“Shut up,” he snaps, but there’s no venom in it, and they all know it.

 

Mike tucks the photo carefully into a pocket in his DM folder, making sure that it’s flat and safe. When he straightens up, Will is watching him, and Mike wants to thank him again, wants to let him know exactly how much this means and exactly how glad he is that he’s okay and safe and back with them -

 

But Dustin speaks before he can. “You’re not actually going to leave, though, are you? Because I’ve been looking forward to your mom’s meatloaf all day -”

 

“Dustin!” 

 

“I know that El is great and we all miss her, but Mrs. Wheeler’s meatloaf is -”

 

“Dude,” Max says, disbelieving. “Shut up.”

 

Lucas lunges forward and puts Dustin in a headlock, and Will and Mike step back out of the way as Dustin’s arms flail, desperately trying to push Lucas off him. Max yells from the sidelines, so loudly and enthusiastically Mike’s not sure if she’s trying to get them to stop or egging them on, and Will climbs up onto the couch to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. 

 

Mike carefully moves his DM folder out of the way and watches his friends fight like animals.

 

They’re ridiculous, and he still desperately misses El, but he’s also really glad they’re here. They make the basement feel a little more like home.

 

 

 

 


	4. Week Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about the delay: The holiday season was busier than expected. I hope that everyone who celebrates had a fantastic time!!

_ A wolf, wolf and I, _

_ We share the same cold meal. _

_ I float on, float on down. _

_ We ride, we ride, we ride _

_ We ride it all out. _

 

 

 

 

It’s seven:one-five, and Hopper’s still not home. He was supposed to be here at six:three-zero, and El made sure she had dinner ready for then, because she has something important to ask him and she wanted to make a good impression. But now she’s sitting on the couch, staring at the tv and not comprehending any of what’s happening on the screen, while the roast chicken and vegetables go cold on the dinner table.

 

She’s upset. Angry upset.

 

Because Hopper’s ruined her plans for the evening, because she’s still stuck hiding in here while he’s free to leave whenever he wants, because last night all of her friends were allowed to see each other and she couldn’t go.

 

She hears the special knock on the door and unlocks it with a tilt of her head. She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look at him as he stomps inside, grumbling about the cold and shuffling off his heavy coat.

 

“I’m sorry, kid, there was a pile-up on the highway,” he says, and he does sound sorry.

 

El still doesn’t turn around. 

 

“I know I said I’d be home early tonight so we could talk, but -” He pauses, and she imagines he’s just noticed the kitchen. “Hang on, you didn’t eat?”

 

She doesn’t respond. 

 

Hopper sighs. “El, come on. You’re mad at me, all right, that’s fair. But you’ve gotta take care of yourself -”

 

“I do,” she snaps, finally turning to look at him.

 

There are dark bags underneath his eyes, his hair is sticking up funny after being squashed under his hat all day, and he’s plucking at the blue band he always wears around his wrist. He’s looking right at her, and she can’t read his expression.

 

She stands up so she can better look him in the eye. “I do take care of myself,  _ all  _ I do is take care of myself! I learn, I cook, I stay here, every single day, because here is safe.”

 

“Here  _ is  _ safe,” Hopper says, voice steady.

 

“Here is  _ lonely _ !” El counters. Her hands ball into fists at her sides and she feels furious, suddenly, full of a rage that far outstrips what a late arrival deserves. Everything she’s been holding in for the last three weeks pours out of her at once. “You say I still can’t see my friends, but it’s okay because I have you, but then you aren’t here!”

 

“I’m sorry, kid, I got here as soon as I could -”

 

“It’s just me, alone, when all my friends are together.” Her bottom lip trembles dangerously. “You said I could talk to them, but how? I listen to Mike but he can’t hear me -”

 

Hopper frowns. “You listen to Mike?”

 

Fear cuts through her rage. She quiets, but keeps her expression stony. “Yes.”

 

“You’re still visiting him?” Hopper’s obviously not happy. He’s frowning, one hand balled up by his side and the other reaching for the cigarette packet in his pocket.

 

El kicks at the ground, like she’s seen Mike do when he’s annoyed with Nancy or his mom. “I told you I miss him.”

 

Hopper sighs deeply, shoulders sagging, and rubs a hand down his face. He tucks the cigarettes back into his pocket. “You’re still recovering, you shouldn’t be pushing your powers like that -”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” she says, firm enough to cut him off.

 

He looks at her, and she gets the sense that he’s realising there’s more to this than the usual restlessness she gets from being cooped up. “I asked you to give me a few days.”

 

“A few days is three. It’s been twelve days.”

 

Hopper grumbles under his breath, which means that she’s right and he has no argument. “It’s not always literal, you know, sometimes a few days doesn’t mean any set time.”

 

“It doesn’t mean twelve days,” El says through gritted teeth.

 

“No, it doesn’t.” He sighs, goes back to the door and picks up a bag. “I’m sorry that I kept you waiting. But here.”

 

He holds it out to her, waiting for her to come and claim it. She knows what this is - a peace offering. If she accepts, the fight is over. 

 

El crosses the room in three quick steps and snatches the bag from his outstretched hand. It’s heavier than she was expecting, one side of a brown cardboard box visible inside. “What is it?”

 

“Open it.”

 

Her heart thuds with anticipation. She carefully pulls the box out, eyes going wide as the image on the side is revealed. “It’s a - a -”

 

“A walkie talkie,” Hopper finishes for her. “So you can call your friends.”

 

“So we can talk?” Her voice is breathless, her hands almost shaking as she turns the box over. She looks up at Hopper to see him smiling down at her. “So they can hear me?”

 

He nods. 

 

Any lingering disappointment at his lateness vanishes, replaced by amazement. She throws her arms around him, still holding the box, and squeals with joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 

He hugs her back, strong arms wrapped all the way around her. “You’re welcome. And I really am sorry that it took so long.”

 

He kisses the top of her head and she pulls back. His arms fall back to his sides and El’s holding the box between them, but she feels closer to Hopper now than she has since they returned to the cabin.

 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” she says.

 

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “It’s okay. We’re both trying.” 

 

And they are, they’re trying really hard. To talk more, to listen more, to not let their emotions get the better of them. It’s hard, because Hopper hasn’t needed to be open with anyone in so long, and so many things are still firsts for El, but they’re both nothing if not stubborn, and so they keep on trying.

 

She thinks they’re getting better.

 

El tears the box open and unpacks the radio, holding it reverently. She pulls out the antenna and twists the dials just like she did back in her fort, when she was trying to show Mike that Will was still in the Upside Down, just like she’s seen Mike do hundreds of times as she watches him through the void. 

 

But nothing happens.

 

“We’ve gotta put the batteries in, kid.”

 

She looks up at Hopper. “What?”

 

“It doesn’t come with batteries. I’ll put them in for you after dinner.”

 

El looks over his shoulder, to the meals still waiting for them on the table. “It’s cold.”

 

“Cold chicken can be nice. And if you don’t like it, we’ve got a microwave,” he says, pulling out his chair and gesturing for her to do the same. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

 

El looks from him to the walkie talkie. Her fingers are almost burning, they’re itching so badly to connect her to Mike. 

 

Her thoughts must show on her face, because Hopper sighs. “As soon as your plate’s clear you can call Mike.”

 

That gets her into her seat. She brings the walkie talkie, though, resting it on top of the table, beside her knife. She puts some cold chicken on her fork, unwilling to waste time heating it up in the microwave, and finds that it tastes much better than she was expecting. “I have something I want to talk to you about, too.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Hopper raises an eyebrow. 

 

El nods solemnly. Her stomach twists with nerves. She’s been practicing all day, listing reasons that might convince him to listen to her and agree, and she thought that she was ready. But now, sitting across from him, the words aren’t coming the way she wants them to.

 

He must sense this, because he pauses his chewing and says, “Want me to go first?”

 

She nods.

 

“Right.” He holds his knife and fork still on either side of his plate. He looks between El and his food like he wants to see her reaction but doesn’t want to scare her by making this seem like a big deal. “Doctor Owens is out of hospital.”

 

El’s so surprised by this that she forgets the manners he’s been drilling into her and speaks with her mouth full. “So you can find out what happened to the bad men?”

 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Hopper admonishes, but nowhere near as sternly as normal. “I’m going to meet him for lunch on Friday. I’m going to find out if it’s safe for you to leave the cabin.”

 

She can’t stop the hope that bubbles up in her chest, makes her head feel light and her heart race. “Leave the cabin?”

 

“Don’t get too excited,” Hopper says quickly, looking down as he cuts his chicken. “I can’t make any promises. We might still have to wait a bit longer. But at least we’ll know, either way.”

 

El tries to tamp down her excitement. The possibility of freedom is so close, and yet she knows that Doctor Owens might not have good news. She can’t afford to let herself get too hopeful and be disappointed so badly again. She nods and continues eating her meal, so lost in her thoughts that she barely even registers how gross the cold vegetables are.

 

Hopper watches her eat a cold piece of carrot, a bemused smile on his lips. “So, what did you want to ask me?”

 

She freezes with her fork halfway to her mouth. This is it, what she’s been practicing for all day. The big question. She lays her cutlery down on her plate and pushes her shoulders back. She forces herself to sound as calm as possible as she says, “I want to go to the Snow Ball.”

 

Whatever Hopper had been expecting, this clearly wasn’t it. He frowns. “The Snow Ball?”

 

El nods. “It’s a dance. At the school. Mike asked me to go with him.”

 

“When did Mike ask you to go to the Snow Ball?” Hopper still sounds confused, but he doesn’t sound mad, and he didn’t immediately say no at the mention of El going to the school, so she’s feeling confident.

 

“Last night, with his walkie talkie.” She takes a deep breath. “And last year, before.”

 

“Before what?” Hopper asks quietly.

 

El closes her eyes. She remembers the feeling of Mike’s lips on hers, so unexpected, so soft and sweet. His smile afterwards, how happy he’d been. And later, his hands shaking around hers as he promised that they were going to the Snow Ball, even though she knew, then, that wasn’t going to happen.

 

When she opens her eyes, Hopper is silently watching her. She blinks until she doesn’t feel quite so much like crying. “Before I killed the Demogorgon.” 

 

“I see.” Hopper watches her carefully. “So you want to go with Mike to a school dance.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“There’ll be a lot of other people there.”

 

“Dustin and Lucas. And Will.” Her heart flutters at the thought of being with all of her friends.

 

“And strangers that we don’t know, maybe people that we can’t trust.”

 

She frowns, because that sounds like a reason not to go. “No. Just other kids.”

 

“Hm.” Hopper takes another bite of his dinner. “When is this dance?”

 

El realises that she doesn’t actually know. She replays Mike’s words;  _ The Snow Ball’s coming up soon.  _ She meets Hopper’s gaze evenly. “Soon.”

 

“Soon, huh?” He pushes his empty plate away. 

 

She’s trying to be patient, trying to give him time to think about what she’s asking, but she’s so nervous that she can’t help but blurt out, “Please, please let me go! We _ promised _ .”

 

“You and Mike?” Hopper asks.

 

She nods frantically. “We promised that we’d go to the Snow Ball. And a promise is something that -”

 

“That you can’t break, ever. I know.” He runs a hand down his face and sighs, and when he looks at her again she knows that he’s made his decision. “Look, kid, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll ask Doc Owens about it and we’ll see what we can do, okay?”

 

He hasn’t even finished the sentence before El’s up out of her seat, walkie talkie in hand, hopping from foot to foot in her excitement. “Thank you, thank you! I have to tell Mike!”

 

Hopper’s trying hard not to smile. “Tell him it’s not definite, yet, don’t get the boy’s hopes up -”

 

El’s barely listening. Her head is too full of thoughts of how Mike will react to the news, of what he’ll say when he hears her voice, of what she’s going to wear. 

 

Oh, no. She doesn’t have anything to wear. 

 

She can deal with that later, though. For now, she just needs to tell Mike. She waves the walkie talkie at Hopper. “Batteries?”

 

He grumbles and complains and is extra slow getting up out of his seat, but she knows that he’s just doing it to annoy her, because that’s what dads do, sometimes. When he finally gets the batteries in the back, El practically rips the walkie talkie from his hands and starts tuning in to Mike’s frequency.

 

She’s too far away for it to work normally, but she can help it along. She concentrates, searches for Mike through the edge of the void, and grins as she finds him. “Mike? Mike?”

 

She takes her finger off the button on the side, and the walkie talkie crackles. 

 

Hopper is watching her closely. “He might be busy, don’t worry if he doesn’t reply straight away.”

 

El ignores him and tries again. “Mike?”

 

The crackle changes, and then Mike’s voice is coming through the speaker, and El’s so overjoyed she almost drops it. “El? El, is that you?! Over.”

 

“Mike! It’s me!” She’s beaming, smiling so wide even though he can’t see her, and she’s holding the speaker right up to her mouth and she feels like she’s about to float away.

 

“But - How -” Mike stutters, and then says, all in a rush, “It’s so good to hear you! How can I hear you? Is it like with Will? Or are you using a SuperCom too? Does this mean we can talk all the time? Over!”

 

“Hopper got me a walkie talkie,” she replies, smiling at him where he’s sitting on the couch, listening. He looks pleased with himself. “So you can hear me, too.”

 

She hears Mike’s breath catch. “So I can - You mean, you’ve been listening, still?”

 

El’s voice softens to match Mike’s. “Twenty-one days.”

 

There’s silence, and El starts to panic that he’s gone, or that she’s pressed the wrong button and broken it, or that she’s upset him somehow - But then he’s back, and he sounds a little croaky as he says, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

 

She smiles. “Me too.”

 

“I knew you were there… Hey!” he exclaims, with all his earlier enthusiasm. “If you’ve been listening then you know I’m coming to see you.”

 

Hopper reaches over and snatches the walkie talkie from El’s grasp before she can respond. “What do you mean, Wheeler?”

 

“Uh. Hi, Chief. I didn’t realise you were there.”

 

“Yeah, I bet you didn't. You wanna run your plans for a visit by me first?” 

 

El’s glaring at him, because he’s taught her that interruptions are rude and now he’s gone and interrupted her conversation with Mike. “Give it back!”

 

He holds a finger up in a way that means  _ In a second _ and talks into the speaker again. “And how were you planning on getting out here, anyway?”

 

There’s a crackle of static, and then Mike’s voice. “I’ll ride my bike. I know the way.”

 

Hopper’s eyebrows lower. “You know the way?”

 

“I have directions,” he says, and El can imagine how serious he must look right now, dark eyes staring straight ahead and jaw set stubbornly. “And it’s been twenty-two days since El and I have seen each other, and back at the Byers you said that you weren’t going to keep us apart anymore, you  _ promised _ , and we deserve to see each other, so I’m coming over.”

 

El’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. It can be scary, sometimes, sitting in the cabin alone and knowing that Mike’s always surrounded by other people. Knowing that he wants to see her just as much as she wants to see him means more to her than anything.

 

Hopper mutters something under his breath before pressing the button again. “When?”

 

“What?” Mike asks, shocked. He recovers quickly, though, adding, “Uh, tomorrow. If that’s okay.”

 

“Oh, now you ask if it’s okay.”

 

The stubbornness is back in Mike’s voice when he asks, “Is it okay?”

 

“Meet me at the station at 10am sharp. I’ll give you a lift from there.”

 

“I can ride my bike -”

 

Hopper rolls his eyes. “Kid, it’s freezing outside, let me give you a damn lift.”

 

“Okay.”

 

He throws the walkie talkie back to El, who catches it and doesn’t even bother putting it the right way up before pressing the button and saying, “Mike!”

 

“El, did you hear?” he asks, all traces of the annoyance his voice had held when talking to Hopper gone.

 

She turns the walkie talkie around and almost yells into the receiver, “Yes! You’re coming over tomorrow!”

 

He sounds just as excited as she feels as he starts rattling off all of the things he’s going to bring to show her, and all the things they can do when he gets there, and El loses herself in the sound of his voice. It’s distorted and occasionally crackles, but it’s undeniably Mike, and she could happily listen to him talk for hours.

 

It’s a long time before Hopper convinces her to get off the walkie talkie and go to bed, and it’s only when she’s lying in the middle of her mattress, too excited to sleep, that she realises that she forgot to tell Mike about the Snow Ball.

 

It’s okay, though, because she can tell him when she sees him tomorrow. 

 

The thought makes her giddy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There’s muffled voices from outside and El’s unlocked the door before she can even stop to think about it. Because she knows those voices, would know them anywhere, over any distance; It’s Hopper and Mike, come home to her.

 

She pushes open the front door and steps out onto the porch, her feet immediately freezing through the soles of her woolen socks. Some part of her brain registers Hopper yelling at her to  _ get her ass back inside, what is she thinking _ , and she knows that it was stupid of her to run out of the cabin like this, so exposed, but the rest of her brain just has one word on loop, loud enough to drown out absolutely everything else:  _ Mike. _

 

Their gazes meet and then his long legs are carrying him up the steps and in the time it takes El to remember how to breathe he’s in her arms, holding her against his chest, and her heart is beating so hard and so fast he must be able to feel it, and she never, ever wants to let him go.

 

El’s watched Mike grow over the last year, has seen him get taller, seen his hair get longer and curl at the ends, heard his voice crack and change pitch before settling into something deeper. She’s watched his time march on without her, but she’s still not used to it.

 

“Mike,” she says, standing on tiptoes to burrow her face into the crook of his neck and breath him in, her lips moving against his soft skin. “Mike.”

 

“Eleven,” he whispers, hands warm on either side of her spine. She steps forward, planting her feet in between his, and leans right into his chest, but it’s still not close enough. He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes, lifting her off her feet and into the air. “El, it’s so good to see you.”

 

She settles into herself, more grounded than she’s been since the last time she was in his arms. There’s something about Mike that makes El feel like a real person in a way no one else can, makes her feel solid and alive and grateful for it.

 

“All right, that’s enough. Get inside,” Hopper says gruffly, stomping past them.

 

Mike puts El’s feet back on the ground and she reluctantly lets him go. She immediately grabs his hand, lacing her fingers through his and pulling him into the cabin. She locks the door behind him with a thought, and steps back just enough to allow him the space to take off his backpack and jacket.

 

“So this is where you were all year?” he asks, looking around the cabin as he shrugs off the heavy coat. His voice is steady enough, but his eyes are dark and he’s almost frowning.

 

El wrings her hands together in front of herself, glances over to Hopper for guidance. He has his back to them, though, already making himself another coffee. 

 

“Yes,” she says, eventually, because it’s the truth.

 

Mike looks right at her, and she’s alarmed to see how sad he is. He drops his gaze to his feet and says, “This whole time, you were so close…”

 

“Hey,” Hopper says, pointing at him. “You had no way of knowing she was here, and she had no way of telling you.”

 

Mike looks up and glares at Hopper. “Yeah, because you wouldn’t let her.”

 

“We talked about this at the Byers’, kid,” Hopper says sternly. “You can disagree, but I did what I thought was right.”

 

“Safe,” El says.

 

Both of them turn to her, wearing the same confused expression.

 

She reaches out to grab Mike’s hand, because she wants to be close to him, because she can. “It was bad, but it was safe.”

 

Mike opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “It -”

 

“Is done.” Hopper’s tone leaves no room for argument. “I’m sorry, Wheeler, I am, but we can’t change it now.”

 

Mike just looks at him for a moment, expression every bit as stern as Hopper’s. When El squeezes his hand, he squeezes back. “But you’re not keeping us apart anymore.”

 

Hopper takes a long sip of his coffee, eyes locked on El and Mike’s clasped hands. “Don’t think I could if I tried.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Having Mike in the cabin feels like crossing a bridge. There wasn’t a lot of time for the two of them to talk the morning after El closed the gate, because everyone was there and everyone had questions and their own stories to tell and Hopper had insisted that they not stay too long in case the government sent anyone to check what the hell had happened and followed the trail back to the Byers’.

 

The basics have been covered, sure, but there’s still so much that El hasn’t shared, and Mike wants to hear all of it.

 

So she gathers her courage and talks more than she ever has before.

 

She tells him everything that happened, in as much detail as she can; How she made it out of the Upside Down and went straight to his house but had to leave because of the bad men ( _ “I knew I saw you, I knew it!” _ ), how she was freezing and starving in the woods when Hopper found her and took her in, how she visited Mike every single night in the void and listened to him talk to her, how it felt to know that he still believed in her, even after she’d left him.

 

“It wasn’t your fault, El,” he says quickly, because she’s started crying.

 

“It - it feels like it is,” she sniffles. 

 

He shifts on her bed, shuffling over so they’re sitting side by side, and drapes an arm around her. He pulls her close and she cries into his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. None of it’s your fault, anything that’s happened. No one blames you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. You saved us, El.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she says anyway, because she’s been holding onto the words for so long, has whispered them so many times in the void without him hearing, and she can’t keep them to herself anymore. “I’m sorry, Mike. I should have been there for you.”

 

He leans his cheek against the top of her head and she clutches at the front of his sweater. “I should have been there for you, too,” he says, and she can hear that he’s crying, too.

 

Eventually, when her tears have slowed enough for her to speak, El says, “But we’re here now.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m not going to let anything like that happen ever again. We’re staying together.” There’s a determination in Mike’s voice that settles the panic inside her immediately.

 

She nuzzles his shoulder. “Promise?”

 

When she cranes her neck back to look up at him, he’s smiling down at her. “Promise.”

 

El tells Mike about her and Hopper’s three rules, and then she tells him how she broke all of them. She almost doesn’t tell Mike about when she saw him at the school, because it still hurts to think about, but friends don’t lie, so she does.

 

“I thought that was you! As soon as it happened I ran after you, but you were already gone. Why didn’t you come in?” he asks, frowning. The hurt on his face makes her stomach churn. “You were right there, why didn’t you tell me?”

 

She doesn’t have the words for it. She looks down at her lap and tries to explain anyway, because she owes him that. “I was mad. Sad.”

 

“Why?” he asks softly. He’s not angry, which is something that she’s been worried about, but somehow she thinks his disappointment might be worse.

 

“It’s bad,” El says. When he tilts his head down to better look at her, she sighs. “Max.”

 

“Max? What’s Max got to do with anything?”

 

El blinks at him, bewildered. “You were…” She trails off, because she’s not really sure what was happening between Mike and Max in that moment; all she knows is that she didn’t like it at all.

 

A dozen emotions flash across Mike’s face in an instant. She catches realisation, and then disgust, and then amusement, before he settles on something like sadness. “Max was annoying me, like always. She kept bugging me about letting her join the Party, but I didn’t want her to, because we already had you.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yeah. You’re our mage, which is a real thing, but Max wanted to be a zoomer, which is just some lame class she made up on the spot, you know? I think she was trying to show me what a zoomer could do when you moved her board.”

 

El chews her bottom lip. “So Max is annoying?”

 

Mike laughs. “Well, yeah, she can still be a total pain and she thinks she’s cooler than the rest of us, but Max is pretty cool, I guess, once you get to know her.”

 

“Is she in the Party now?”

 

“She is now, yeah. It’s Lucas’s fault, really, he’s the one who told her everything in the first place, just because he has a giant crush on her -”

 

“Crush?” El interrupts. 

 

Mike looks at her, his smile still in place, and for a moment it’s like no time has passed at all, like they’re still the same little kids hiding in his basement. He explains, “He likes her, like, more than a friend.”

 

El takes a second to process this. “Like you like me?”

 

Mike blushes and one of his hands flies up to tug on his collar. “Uh, yeah, I mean, it’s not - it’s not the same, exactly, but, yeah, sort of.”

 

“And does she like him, like more than a friend?”

 

“Uh. I’m not sure, really, but I think so. I mean, they fell asleep holding hands when we all stayed at Will’s, so I guess so.”

 

“Max and Lucas,” she reaffirms, wanting to make sure she understands.

 

Mike nods. “Yeah, Max and Lucas.”

 

“You and me.”

 

He blushes even more, but his smile widens. “You and me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She’s so used to seeing him only in the void that she has to constantly touch him to remind herself that he’s really there. The whole time they’re talking, she brushes her fingers against his, knocks their knees together, grabs his arm. When she reaches out to push a strand of hair away from his face the look he gives her - a little embarrassed, a lot awed - makes her melt.

 

She smiles at him. “I’m happy you’re here, Mike.”

 

His hands have been twisting in his lap, his foot tapping against the frame of her bed, but as she brings her other hand up so that she’s cupping his face, Mike freezes. 

 

She’s not sure why she does it, exactly. She just has this  _ feeling,  _ this need to be close to him, to show him, somehow, how he makes her feel. When it comes to Mike, El trusts her instincts.

 

Slowly, carefully, she leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on his cheek, right on top of his freckles. When she pulls back he doesn’t move - apart from his eyes, which track her movements exactly - so she leans back in and kisses the other cheek, too, just like she had when she’d woken up with him on Will’s couch, the morning after she closed the gate.

 

When she pulls away this time, letting her hands fall back to her lap, Mike comes to life before her eyes. He blushes the most beautiful pink, right where she’d kissed him, and then he lunges forward and presses his lips to hers.

 

It’s soft, and sweet, and so similar to the way he kissed her in the cafeteria that for a moment she can almost pretend the last year never happened, and it’s over far too soon.

 

When Mike sits back on her mattress El gapes at him, heart racing. 

 

“El,” he starts, and then stops to catch his breath.

 

Her head is full of memories of Mike, and her lips are tingling, and she wants desperately to kiss him again, and it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world that he knows that she’s going to keep this promise. “I want to go to the Snow Ball with you.” 

 

His eyes widen. “You do?”

 

She nods, leans forward to grab both of his hands with hers. “Yes.”

 

“El, that’s - I mean, I -” Mike shakes his head, like he can’t find the words.

 

El knows the feeling. “Mike.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I understand,” she says softly, smiling.

 

Mike smiles back, and El knows that they’re going to be okay.

 

 

 

 


End file.
